


TMA Ficlets For The Soul

by PeachTeaCutea



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ficlets, Hurt feelings, Other, Sick Fic, cold shoulder, multiple pieces of writing, overlooked promotion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29751945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachTeaCutea/pseuds/PeachTeaCutea
Summary: Decided that this is going to now be where I post all My short little TMA Ficlets! So come check them out! :)
Relationships: College!Jon/Georgie, Jonmartin - Relationship, Sasha James/Tim Stoker, preJonMartin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. Feeling Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun little fic based on an ask received on tumblr by Celosiaa:
> 
> Essentially Tim is giving Jon the cold shoulder after his promotion. Martin doesn't agree with how he's going about it and sticks up for himself and Jon. I hope it’s good!

At first, Martin was thrilled when Tim asked him to go out for drinks after work. He’d been feeling a bit like the odd man out, with how well the others knew each other.

It would be an excellent chance to get to know his co-workers.

That's what he thought until he arrived at the pub they’d agree to meet, and he noticed a distinct lack of Jon, feeling his heart sink in his chest. Martin had been hoping to see him in an attempt to make a better impression on him than his first one.

But he supposed Jon was probably busy, and this didn't seem like his thing anyway.

Martin scanned the pub with his eyes, smiling when he saw Tim waving him over, making his way to where he and Sasha were seated. He got caught up in their conversation, forgetting about Jon entirely.

~

Martin didn’t think about it till the next day when he was bringing Jon tea the following day. Jon was slumped over a statement, brow furrowed, as he got set up to start reading a statement.

Either he hadn’t noticed Martin yet, or he was ignoring him, both plausible scenarios when it came to Jon.

When Martin cleared his throat, and Jon glanced up at him, “Just leave it on the desk, Martin.” He told him, gesturing to a spot on his desk. He shivered, used to getting the cold shoulder from Jon, but this felt icier than usual.

Martin didn’t know what he’d done upset Jon this time, rolling his eyes, choosing to ignore it, setting the mug of tea on his desk.

“Thank you, Martin.” Jon said, not looking up from his work. “Did you have fun last night?” He asked before Martin could flee from the room.

It took him a minute to understand what Jon was referring to, “Oh yeah, it was nice…we missed you last night.” Martin commented, rubbing the back of his neck, not used to small talk with Jon.

Jon visibly tensed, clearing his throat, “Wasn’t invited…” He told him, the crease in his brow deepening.

Martin frowned because that didn’t sound right to him. Sasha and Tim were friends with Jon, weren’t they? Why wouldn’t they invite him? “Well, there’s always next time.” Martin answered, trying to keep his voice light and cheerful.

A hurt looked passed over Jon’s face, “Yeah, next time…” He said, and it dawned on Martin that Jon was jealous. That was why Jon was acting colder than usual because he was feeling left out.

Martin felt a sharp tug in his chest, knowing how that felt, “Definitely next time.” He affirmed before he left Jon’s office.

~

Martin was working at his computer when Tim came over, lounging on his desk, “So Martin last night was fun, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, it was great!” Martin smiled, a fluttery feeling filling his chest as his hands fluttered excitedly, “I had a lot of fun.”

“Great, Sasha and I were thinking of going out again this week if you’re interested?” Tim asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making Martin laugh.

“Sure, that sounds great…though maybe we could invite Jon this time.” Martin suggested a look he couldn’t quite describe passing over Tim’s face. “I-I mean it ju-just seemed like he was feeling a bit left out.” Martin explained, stumbling over his words a little.

Tim smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Yeah, sure, we’ll invite the boss man next time,” He told Martin, sliding off of his desk, “anyway it was nice chatting, but I should get back to work if I don’t want Jon on my case.” He waved at Martin before leaving.

~

It was a few days later, when Martin was bringing Jon tea once again that it became clear Tim wasn’t going to keep his word, and Martin was faced with another uncomfortable conversation.

“So, you’re going out with Tim and Sasha again?” Jon started, not looking up from his work.

Martin frowned, hearing this, “Yeah, Tim asked me again a couple of days ago…he didn’t talk to you?” He asked, clearly confused. Starting to feel like this was more intentional than he first believed.

Jon shoulders tensed a little before slumping, “No, he didn’t.” He answered, failing to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“I’m sure it just slipped his mind,” Martin said, in a weak attempt to spare Jon’s feelings, “you’re welcome to join us.”

Jon shifted, straightening his papers, “No, it’s uh…fine, have fun.” He said, getting up to leave his office mumbling some excuse about missing some critical paperwork or something.

Martin decided it was time to put an end to this, making his way to Tim’s desk clearly a man on a mission.

He stopped in front of it, his resolve almost crumbling when Tim looked up at him questioningly, but then Martin thought back to the hurt look on Jon’s face.

He steeled himself, “Hey Tim, I thought we were inviting Jon out with us this time,” Martin said, his voice shaking a little, “but he doesn’t seem to know about the plan tonight.”

Tim, for a moment, looked a bit like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but he stood his ground all the same, “Oh yeah, must have slipped my mind.” He answered.

Martin chewed his lip, really wanting to believe that was true, but his gut told him otherwise. “I really hope that’s all because I know you and Jon are good friends.” He said, deciding to use Tim’s conscience against him, “I just know you hate to hurt his feelings.”

The other man averted his gaze, and Martin knew he’d hit the nail on the head, “And as much as I enjoy being included, that I wouldn’t appreciate it if it was only to hurt someone else’s feeling, but you already know that.” He told him.

“Right…I get what you’re saying.” Tim said, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly, “I was pissed that Jon got promoted, and Sasha didn’t, and I didn’t handle it in the best of ways.”

“I’ll go talk to Jon.” He said, getting up from his desk. “And I sorry for putting you in the middle of this that wasn’t fair to you, but I want you to know I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, and I really hope we can still be friends.” He told Martin.

“I not happy but, I think I can forgive you just…don't do it again,” Martin told him, almost as if he was scolding a child.

Tim nodded, going to Jon’s office to apologize.

Martin let out a breath of air he didn’t realize he’d been holding in, feeling a little proud of himself, before going back to his desk. Looking forward to spending time with his co-workers.


	2. New Year New Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woo first fanfiction of the New Year! Based on this prompt sent to me by an anon:
> 
> Jon trying to fight through an ailment while recording a statement. (Surprise, it doesn’t go well.) Martin tries to help Jon despite him being adamant about hiding himself away. 
> 
> Jon’s not really reading a statement in this but he is still being irresponsible with his health so I hope you still enjoy it!

A distant buzzing tugged at the edges of Jon’s consciousness.

He wasn’t quite awake enough to place where the sound was coming from, and his body was currently protesting being awake, so ignoring it seemed like his best option for the moment. The buzzing went away as quickly as it came.

Jon could feel his sore body sinking into the comfort of cushions underneath, dozing off.

It didn’t last long, as he was soon dragged back to consciousness by someone shaking his shoulder. He grumbled, burying his face further in the blankets, not ready to be awake.

“I know boss, I’m don’t want to be awake right now either.” A tired voice told him, a bit too loudly for his liking, a sharp pain shooting through his temple.

Jon wrinkled his nose before blinking his eyes open, squinting at the too-bright lights of Tim’s apartment.

It took a minute for his brain to catch-up before he could distinguish what he was doing in Tim’s apartment.

He remembered discussing New Year’s plans, and when it became apparent none of them had made any, Martin suggested a small get-together at one of their flats. Tim had been the first to volunteer his own, and they’d managed to ‘bully’ him into joining them.

Jon remembers a little bit of the previous night but not much, which he could probably attribute to the alcohol. Leaving him with what he was sure was a nasty hangover.

What he couldn’t understand is why Tim was waking him up at an ungodly hour when he distinctly remembered them having the day after New Years' off.

Jon scowled at Tim, looking Tim over, glad that he at least looked as exhausted a Jon felt, and the only words Jon could think to say were, “What the hell?” They even sounded odd to him coming out of his mouth.

Tim snorted, amused with how disheveled Jon was at the moment, “Yeah, I know, but double boss called, demanding we come in,” He said, rolling his eyes, “something about a critical file gone missing. Still don’t know why it couldn’t have waited.”

Ice filled the pit of Jon’s stomach as he processed what Tim was saying. He sat up straight, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anyway, with the dread filling the pit of his stomach.

“Don’t look so panicked.” Tim teased, pressing two paracetamol into the palm of Jon’s hand, along with a bottle of water, “ I’m sure it just got misplaced. It won’t take long for the four of us to find it.”

Jon nodded, trying to let his co-worker’s words ease his nerves.

~

That conversation happened nearly over an hour and a half ago, as they were still filtering through hundreds of statements with no luck in finding the missing file.

Currently, Jon was sifting through the mass amount of papers on his desk to find some semblance of organization. His fingers resting on his temple as he messaged it.

He’d already downed the maximum amount of paracetamol he could take, but it didn’t seem to be doing much for the throbbing in his head. It was a struggle to stay motivated, but he reminded himself that he wasn’t the only one suffering through this.

Jon buried his face into his hands, exhausted, swallowing with a dry clicking. Wincing, he reached for his water bottle, taking a couple big gulp to quench his thirst for the moment.

He was still feeling a bit dehydrated, and the dry air and the dust in archives were wreaking havoc on his poor throat and sinus, leaving him with a fuzzy, tingly sort of ache feeling building behind his eyes that felt all too familiar.

Rubbing the area over his sinus, Jon hoped to quell the feeling, only making it worst until, “HUH’RSHIII!” a heavy sneeze had him bending nearly in half, his nose buried in his hands.

Jon stayed that way for a moment, his head throbbing.

Sniffling, Jon grimaced, feeling the slickness coating his hands. Reaching for a tissue, he blew his nose, pulling a little bottle of hand sanitizer out of his bag.

He used a generous amount, feeling significantly less disgusting afterward.

Someone cleared their throat, and Jon nearly jumped out his skin, his head snapping up to find Martin nervously lurking in the doorway. Jon could feel a hot red flush creep up his face as he wondered how much Martin had seen.

“I brought you some tea!” Martin exclaimed, raising the mug a little to show him. Normally Jon would grip at Martin for making tea instead of working, but honestly, tea sounded terrific.

Jon hastily straightened up some paperwork on his desk, leaving a small empty space for Martin to set the mug, “Any luck finding the file?” Jon asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Martin groaned, setting the mug of tea on his desk, “No, unfortunately,” He answered, “Tim’s convinced that Elias just misplaced it and is trying to blame it on us.”

Jon huffed a soft chuckled, coughing dryly. Martin looked him over, frowning, “How are you doing, by the way?” He asked, worry lacing his tone, “You look…”

“Terrible…” Jon provided, looking up at Martin.

Martin snorted, “I was going to say rough.” He answered, “Can I bring you anything else?” He asked, sounding so earnest that it almost made Jon tear up.

“The tea’s fine, Martin.” Jon answered a bit curtly, “What I’d really like is to find this stupid file?” He groaned.

“Right, I’ll get back to that!” Martin told him, clapping his hands together before standing back up. “Let me know if you change your mind.” He said, hurrying out of the room.

~

Jon stumbled out of his office ten minutes later when it became clear he wasn’t going to find what he was looking for in his office.

A crumpled tissue pressed to the underside of his nose, the box under his arm as it was clear his allergies weren’t going to let up any time soon. His nose was taking on a pinkish hue from all the abuse.

It was going to only get worst when he entered the stacks.

He could already feel his eyes getting watery, and he was sure they were already a lovely shade of pink. Jon cleared his irritated throat, coughing, rubbing his aching sinuses.

Standing in front of the endless rows of files, he couldn’t help but feel completely overwhelmed, leaning against a cool metal cabinet, sinking down to the floor. His whole body throbbed, eyes stinging with unshed tears as Jon started to realize how long this was going to take.

Jon’s breath snagged harshly, “HAH’GXSSshh! HIH’GXSsht!” He stifled his sneezes harshly, exhaustion seeping into every muscle in his body.

He closed his eyes, resting his head against the cool metal. He just needed a short break…

~

Jon awoke to a cool hand pressed against his cheek.

Opening his eyes, he found Martin’s face staring back at him, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, “Hey there.” Martin said, smiling softly, “How are you doing?”

“S’fine just a hangover…” Jon slurred a bit, still feeling a bit hazy, “need to get up.” He tried pulling himself up, but Martin just pushed him back down gently.

“Hangovers don’t typically come with fevers, Jon,” Martin told him, brushing his hair gently away from his face, “I think you should probably call it quits for today. The rest of us can keep looking.”

Jon tried to protest weakly, but he was no match for Martin’s fussing.

He let Martin gently direct him to the cot in document storage, allowing himself to be tucked under the covers. The last thing he heard before his eyes slipped shut, and he passed out was Martin’s soft voice telling him to: “Have a good nap.” Before he fell into a blissful slumber.


	3. Warm Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a cute little fic with college Jon and Georgie just being cute and sweet.

Georgie spared another uncomfortable glance at the clock on the wall, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

Jon was usually sitting next to her in class by now. She felt silly worrying about her friend like this, he wasn’t properly late for class yet. 

Still, it just isn’t like Jon to not be here yet.

Hearing the door open, Georgie glances up, having to a double-take. Jon was standing there looking a bit unsteady on his feet, dressed like he was preparing for a blizzard.

It wasn’t exactly warm out, but it definitely wasn’t cold enough for what he was wearing.

Jon stumbled over to where she was slumping heavily into the seat next to her, pulling his scarf a little tighter around his neck.

“It’s not that cold out, Jon,” Georgie asked him, gesturing to his outfit, “are you preparing for a freak snowstorm or something?”

He was sporting a trench coat that’s a size too big on his thin frame, a worn wooly scarf that looked like it’d seen better days, and a knit cap pulled snuggly over his head.

“Dunno…got cold…” Jon mumbled, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat, his eyes not meeting her gaze.

She could see the edges of something white poke out the sleeve of his coat…they looked like tissues. “Jon, are you sick?” Georgie exclaimed, finally putting all the pieces together.

Jon tensed slightly, a flush creeping up his face all the way to his ears, “‘S just a cold.” He croaked. His voice was so soft like he was ashamed of himself, and it broke her heart a little.

“Oh Jon,” Georgie murmured, brushing the other man’s sweat-slick bangs back from his forehead, so she could rest her hand on his forehead, “cold or not, you should have stayed home, you look miserable.”

Jon closed his eyes, reveling in the cool touch of Georgie’s hand for a moment before she pulled it away.

“You know what this class sucks anyway,” She said, getting up, holding out her hand to Jon, “come on, I’m taking you home.”

He looked up at her looking like he wanted to protest, but eventually, Jon gave in taking Georgie’s hand, letting her help him up.

~

They rode the bus back to their apartment complex, and Georgie helped Jon up to his apartment.

Jon stood outside the door fumbling for his keys, unlocking it with shaky hands when he found them.

Georgie shivered when she walked into his apartment with him, wrapping her arms around herself, “No wonder you were cold, it’s freezing in here, Jon!” She exclaimed.

“The heats out,” Jon croaked, pulling his coat a little tighter around him, “they’re sending someone on Friday, I’ll be fine till then.”

“Jon, that’s not for another three days!” Georgie blurted out in disbelief, grabbing his hand, pulling him out of the apartment.

Jon blinked, confused, “Where are we going?” He asked, letting Georgie drag him along.

“Jon you’re sick as a dog, I’m not leaving you in an apartment without heat,” She told him, taking him to her apartment, “you can stay with me until Friday.”

He fumbled over his words, trying to convince Georgie that he’d be fine on his own, but it seemed like she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

~

That’s how Jon found himself on Georgie’s couch, stripped of his heavy winter gear, a little comfortable now he was wearing a pair of sweats, a nice thick quilt wrapped around his thin frame.

The only thing he refused to give up was the ratty scarf wrapped snuggly around his neck.

Jon dozed lightly, feeling the comfortable weight of the Admiral on his lap, as he pets the cat absentmindedly, listening to Georgie banging around in the kitchen.

It all felt oddly domestic in a way he’d never truly experienced but had always imagined it growing up. What it would’ve been like if someone had actually taken the time to look after him growing up…

He burrowed further into the blankets, tears springing to his eyes, feeling ashamed, for having such selfish thoughts.

“Alright, one hot cup of tea…” Georgie said, pressing the mug into Jon’s hands, trailing off when she saw the look on his face. “What’s wrong, are you feeling worst?” She asked worry, coloring her voice as she pressed a hand to his forehead.

Jon rubbed his eyes, “Uh yeah, I’m fine just lost in my thoughts, you know,” He whispered, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “really don’t worry about it.”

“Fine, you don’t have to tell me,” Georgie said, flopping down on the couch next to Jon, opening her arms up to him, “I’m still going to give you a hug, though.”

He hesitated momentarily, and Georgie was sure he’d even accept the offer, but eventually, Jon shuffles closer, letting his friend wrap her arms around him.

They stayed like that in comfortable silence, until Jon eventually nodded off, feeling warm and loved.


	4. Poking Fun Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as the title says, Jon's under the weather, and Tim Poke Fun at him one too many times and hurts Jon's feelings.

Jon groaned, massaging his aching sinuses. He knew he should have called into work today, and he nearly had, but his grandmother’s voice snuck into his head, fueling old insecurities.

 _You’re a big boy Jonny, you don’t need to be coddled over a little cold._ She’d tell him before she sent him off to school.

Jon learned young that nobody was going to waste their time on him, and a small cold wasn’t a reason to stay home when there were more important things to worry about.

So here Jon doing his best to make it through the day despite his better judgment.

He lifted his head from his hands when he heard a knock on his door, clearing his throat, “Cobe id.” He called out, wincing at the stuffiness in his voice.

“Aw boss, you sound so stuffy, still got that wicked cold?” Tim said, poking his head in the door, earning a glare from the older man. Tim had been on Jon’s case all day, poking fun at his sorry state, and the archivist was getting really fed up with it.

“Tib, I dod’t have tibe for your dodsedse right dow, so udless you have sobethigg ibportadt to tell be…” Jon croaked, rubbing his face with a hand.

“Nothing important just thought I’d remind you that we have a meeting later today, in case you’d forgotten, or you don’t plan on coming.” Tim told him nonchalantly

Jon frowned, tensing up slightly at the comment, “ I’m aware Tim, and no, I have no plans to go home early, so if you don’t mind, I have actual work to do so…” He said, gesturing to the paperwork on his desk.

Tim put up his hands in defense, grinning, “Alright, alright, I can take a hint.” He said, leaving his boss’s office.

As soon as he was gone, Jon groans, resting his hot face on his desk, having completely forgotten that there was a meeting today. He had actually been hoping to slip out earlier than usual without anyone noticing but now he didn’t have a choice.

He just hoped things would go quickly, so he could get out as soon as possible.

~

Jon was already regretting his decision to stay, he was only half-listening to what Elias was saying through the thick fog filling his head.

His nose was completely plugged up, yet still managed to sluggishly leak as he pressed a crumpled tissue to his nose, trying not to draw too much attention to himself as he sniffled.

Which apparently wasn’t good enough as Sasha elbowed him lightly, “Blow your nose properly would you.” She whispered, giving him a pointed look.

Jon flushed with shame, looking away still feeling her eyes on him as he folded his handkerchief over his nose, blowing his nose unproductively.

He could feel panic well up in his chest, as the vibrations sparked a sharp itch deep in his nose making him gasp in response, his eyes watering. Jon wasn’t exactly known for having the quietest sneeze, and the last thing wanted to embarrass himself in front of his co-workers.

Jon rubbed at his septum as discreetly as possible, trying to stave off the building sneeze. It was no use though his chest swelling against his will with hitching breaths, bending nearly in half into cupped hands, “HAH’ASSshiew! HUH’RSHhiew!”

“Oh my gosh bless you, boss, you could blow someone away with those!” Tim exclaimed dramatically, “ Need some tissues?” He said, grinning holding out a travel pack of tissue out to Jon as if to patronize him.

“Tib…” Jon answered sternly, trying to shut him up with a watery glare.

But Tim didn’t seem to get the message, “Sorry don’t know anyone named Tib, boss.” He teased Jon.

That was the final straw. Jon got up abruptly, collecting his stuff walking out of the room.

Elias cleared his throat, “If we may continue.” He said bringing the attention back to the meeting. Tim could feel Sasha and Martins eyes bore into him as he was sure they were glaring at him.


	5. Poking Fun Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part to Poking Fun part 1, the aftermath of Tim's teasing!

Jon’s face burned with shame as he hurried out of the room, his crumpled handkerchief pressed to the underside of his nose.

He could feel hot tears prickle in his eyes. Not interested in drawing any more attention to himself than he already had, he kept his gaze towards the ground in front of him, making his way to this office.

Shutting the door behind him, he leaned against the door. Jon sighed, letting himself sink to the floor, his chin rest on his knees.

Jon could feel tears roll down his cheeks, swiping them away harshly laughing bitterly. He was a mess.

If his Gran could see him now, he knows what she’d say. He could practically hear her voice.

_You’re too big to be crying over hurt feelings._

The words still stung even now.

He knew that he was unbearable to be around. He didn’t need perfect people like Tim, pointing out his flaws, picking him apart.

Jon shook those thought out of his head. He’s sure Tim didn’t mean it like that…he just needed a minute to collect himself. Then he could head home.

~

The meeting didn’t go on much longer after Jon left. As soon as it was over, Tim made his way to the other man’s office.

He didn’t need Sasha and Martin scolding him to know that he’d crossed the line. One look at Jon’s face when he’d stormed out of the meeting earlier told him that.

So here, Tim was standing outside of his boss’s office, trying to figure out how to apologize.

When he went to knock, the door opened, and he was face to face with Jon. “Uhm…” Tim said, at a loss for words.

Jon averted his eyes, clearing his throat, “Did you need something, Mr.Stoker?” He croaked voice small, and it made Tim’s insides turn.

“Uh yeah, actually,” Tim answered, rubbing the back of his neck, “I wanted to apologize for early, I overstepped, and that was wrong.”

Jon pursed his lips, clearing his throat, “Thank you, Tim…” He said, genuinely appreciating the apology.

“Can I walk you out?” Tim asked, and Jon rolled his giving him a look. He put his hand up in defense, laughing, “Okay, fine, I get it. You need some space.” He said, “I’ll get out of your way.”

Jon walked past Tim, and he said, “Feel better boss, this place is a mess without you.” Earning him a huffy little laugh and an eye roll, but it was enough to know he was forgiven.


	6. Silly Man Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just finished Season 3 of The Magnus Archives. I’m sad, and maybe a little in denial…so have some cute Tim/Sasha that I’m using to cope with these feelings.

Sasha looked up from her research when she heard a soft knock on her door, “Oh, hey Jon, did you need something?” She asked.

Jon lingered in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably, “Look, I usually wouldn’t ask you to do this, but…I need you to tell Tim to go home.”

“That’s specific.” Sasha snorted, “Is he really causing you that much trouble?” She teased

“That’s not-look he’s sick, probably managed to catch whatever bugs going around the office.” He explained, fidgeting awkwardly.

“Any reason, in particular, you can’t do it, boss?” Sasha asked, resting her chin on her hands, quirking an eyebrow up, smiling.

“Martin and I have already tried telling him, and you know Elias is hardly any help,” Jon started to explain, rambling a bit, “and you two seem to be close, so I thought maybe you’d get a better response from him.”

Sasha shrugged, “Fair enough, I’ll go see if I can work my magic, but I won’t guarantee anything.”

~

Sasha went to go find Tim, stopping by the staff area, making him a mug of tea to bring as a peace offering.

Walking into the room, however, she could see what Jon was talking about. Tim looked terrible, hunched over his some paperwork, brow furrowed, a heavy flush on his cheeks.

He rubbed his forehead, a headache settling there if the crease in his brow was any indication.

She sat across from him, pushing the mug of tea towards him, “So Mr. Stoker, someone told me that you’re stubborn.” Sasha told him, earning a sharp glare from Tim. “What’s with the sour look?”She asked, “Am I wrong?”

“Jon sent you, did he?” Tim croaked, rolling his eyes, “Tell him I’m fine and to leave me alone.”

“That’s funny you don’t look fine to me.” Sasha said, combing her fingers through Tim’s unruly hair with a hand feeling him relax a little into her touch. “In fact, I think you’re running a little fever.” She said, gently resting the back of her hand to his forehead.

“It’s just a cold, s’not even that bad,” Tim mumbled, closing his eyes, leaning into her cold touch, “and there are only a few more hours left, I’ll take some medicine and be good as new by tomorrow.”

“Or you could just go home now and get a head start.” Sasha countered playfully in a weak attempt to get Tim to go home.

“Eager, aren’t we.” Tim answered a bit too sly for her liking, wearing that cheeky grin on his smug face.

“Fine, do what you want, I told Jon not to expect a miracle.” Sasha huffed, throwing up her hands, leaving.

~

“Hey, Sasha, have you seen Tim?” Martin poked his head into the break room, “ I need to do some fact-checking with him, and I haven’t been able to find him.”

Sasha looked up at him from whatever dull document she was reading, shrugging, “Haven’t seen him since this morning.” She told him. “Have you asked Jon?” She asked.

Martin’s face wrinkled, “I tried, he’s in the middle of reading a statement, and you know how he gets.” He explained with a wave of his hand.

Sasha could feel anxiety creep into her chest as she thought back to how Tim had looked this morning. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d gotten worst and was collapsed in some dark corner of the archives.

This place was enormous; he could be anywhere.

She shook these thoughts off quickly, clearing her throat, “I’ll help you find him, he’s probably off somewhere slacking off or something.” Sasha told him, getting up from her seat, “Two heads are better than one after all.

~

It took a bit of searching before Sasha found Tim, relief washing over her.

Tim was lying in one of the lesser-used rooms, on an old beat-up couch, fast asleep his congested snores the only sound permeating the silence.

Sasha rolled her eyes, finding this absolutely ridiculous. She should have woken up and told him to go home, but instead, she ducked out of the room, snagging a thick duvet from one of the cots, draping it over him.

She was pretty sure it belonged to Martin, but she knew he wouldn’t mind.

Hesitating for a moment, Sasha knelt down, combing his damp bangs away from his forehead, pressing her lips to the warm skin there.

Tim snorted, shifting, and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest as she quickly pulled away. He rolled over onto his side, coughing a little before his breath evened out once more.

Sasha got up, letting her eyes scan Tim’s sleeping form just for a moment before turning to leave. She just had to tell Martin that he’d have to pester Tim later.

~

“Hey, why is Tim wandering around the archives wearing my duvet?” Martin poked his head in to ask, not really upset, just confused.

“Oh, he’s just stubborn, he sick and he won’t go home.” Sasha replied, looking up from her work, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh no, not at all.” Martin said, putting hands up, “I was just wondering if there was a reason, I think it’s getting on Jon’s nerves.”

“Don’t tell him that, it’ll just feed his ego,” Sasha told Martin, rolling her eyes, getting up, “I’ll go see if I can go talk him into going home, again.”

~

Sasha was on the search once again for Tim, wondering just how a man wearing duvet was so hard to find when she stopped in her tracks outside the bathroom hearing something.

She listened silently, hearing what she was sure was a sneeze, sighing pushing the door open to the bathroom. Not particularly caring that it was the men’s restroom, glad that Tim at least had the foresight not to drag Martin’s poor duvet in here with him.

Tim was blowing his nose into a paper towel, muffling a cough afterward. He didn’t notice Sasha until she cleared her throat, looking a little like a deer in the headlights, “Fancy meeting you here.” He croaked, “In the men’s restroom…”

“Ready to give up and go home yet?” Sasha asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Why would I do th-that?” Tim shot back, his breath snagging as sniffled liquidly, pressing a knuckle under his nose.

“Come on, Tim, give up this ridiculous charade; you’re clearly miserable.” She told him, poking him in the chest, “Go home and call in sick Stoker.”

Tim brushed her hand away, “Mind your own business, James.” He answered pointedly. “I told you I’m fine, leave me alone.” He grouched, turning around leaving. Pausing momentarily, in the doorway, his breath snagging, “Huh’HUHISSHhiew!” He bent nearly in half, with a harsh sneeze.

He spun around, facing her, “That doesn’t prove anything.” Tim said, pointing at her backing out of the room.

~

It wasn’t long after that encounter that she found herself sipping tea on the couch in the break room.

Tim stumbled in flopping down next to her, head slumping onto her shoulder, his body radiating a stifling heat.

“I changed my mind,” He croaked his voice, sounding wrecked, “I feel like I’m dying.”

Sasha sighed, setting her tea aside, facing him, “I know, let’s get you home.” She said, smoothing his hair back from his face, “I’ll call you a cab.”

It didn’t take long for the cab to get here. Sasha helped Tim up, stumbling a little under his weight as he leaned on her for support, half carrying him out to the cab.

Sasha then went around to the other side, getting into the cab. Tim huffed a breathy laugh this, rolling his flushed face to look at Sasha with a dopey grin, “ Ha, I always knew you couldn’t resist me.“ He teased, winking at her, dissolving into a harsh fit of coughing.

She rubbed his back rolling her eyes, “You’re ridiculous, you know that right.” Sasha said, letting Tim lean against her, with a weak groan.

“I try my best.” Tim croaked, letting his eyes slip closed exhausted.

“Take a nap, you need, we’ll be back at your place soon.” Sasha told him, feeling Tim relax a little next to him as he started to nod off.


	7. Silly Man Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I had lots of fun writing this part. I got real soft w/ the Tim/Sasha relationship! Hope someone enjoys reading it!

Tim was jolted awake when the cab came to an abrupt stop. He blinked blearily stretching and yawning, rolling his shoulders. His muscles felt tight and sore.

He could feel the cab door beside him open, warm, gentle hands helping him out into the brisk night air. Tim shuttered, muffling a weak cough into a loose fist, tightening his arms around his middle, trying to conserve some warmth.

Tim stumbled drunkenly, his head feeling too heavy, spinning dizzily black spots filling the edges of his vision.

“Easy,” Sasha hummed, her warm voice cutting through the fog, “wait until you get inside before passing out.” She said, helping him stumbled up the stairs to his apartment.

Once they got to the door, Tim fumbled to get his keys out of his pocket, groaning when he dropped them, pressing the palm of his hand into his socket, trying to suppress the growing headache.

“I’ve got it,” Sasha said, rubbing his back, scooping up the fallen keys quickly, unlocking the door. She helped him inside, letting him slump onto the couch, unable to bear his weight any longer.

“Sorry about this,” Tim groaned, slinging an arm over his eyes dramatically, “I know this was a lot of trouble to drag my sorry butt home.”

“It was,” Sasha answered, poking fun at him, “but it did get me out of work early, so we’ll consider it a plus.” She said, sitting down on the couch next to him.

Tim raised his arm a little, so he could peek out at her, “You don’t have stick around, you know, I’ll be fine on my own.”

Sasha laughed, “Right like I’m going to leave you alone after you barely managed to stumble up the stairs,” She told him, “Face it, Stoker, you’re stuck with me now.”

“I can think of worst things.” Tim, grabbing the remote, turning on the Tv flipping through the channels before finally settling on something. Sitting in comfortable silence with Sasha.

~

Tim barely lasted longer than ten minutes before he was passed out, mouth hanging open, slightly snoring away.

Sasha got up, easing him down onto the couch, so he was a little more comfortable. Tim shifted, curling in on himself, shivering. She pulled the throw off the back of the sofa, draping it over him.

She gently combed her fingers under his bangs letting her hand rest on his too warm forehead for a moment before pulling her hand away, “Poor baby.” Sash mumbled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Careful, Mrs. James, I could get used to this.” Tim mumbled, turning to her, half asleep.

“Aren’t you suppose to be asleep, Mr.Stoker?” Sasha glared at him playfully, teasing him petting his hair.

“Mmm’almost there, just need one thing,” Tim mumbled, pulling her down by the wrist, tugging her into his arms with a squeak, “perfect.”

Sasha laughed, “You’re the worst, I swear if you get me sick, you’ll regret it.” She said, no real heat behind her words.

Tim grumbled something unintelligible, burying his face into her neck, already quickly drifting off to sleep.


	8. Is That A Thing Thing That Can Happen Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Came up with an idea a while back, for the archival assistants having a couple odd experiences with Jon putting things together little by little

“Hey, Jon, I was just making some…tea.” Martin walked in, trailing off as he noticed the other man slumped over his desk, leaving him frozen in place momentarily.

His heart rate picking up a little as Martin approached the desk, sighing when he saw that Jon was still breathing. He was just asleep, snoring softly.

Martin turned the tape recorder off with a click. He considered waking him up, knowing Jon was going to be sore after sleeping hunched over his desk, …but he could bring himself to wake him. God knows the man needed the sleep.

Realistically, Martin knew if he woke him up, Jon would just insist on going back to work, so it would probably just be best to leave him be.

A small shiver ran through Jon’s thin frame, and Martin chewed his lip, ducking out of the room temporarily, returning with a blanket from one of the cots.

He draped it over Jon, carefully tucking it around him, pleased to see the chill leave the other man for the moment. 

Backing away, he admired his handy work, glad that he could at least do this one thing for Jon, even if it was just something small. 

Martin eventually pried himself away knowing, Jon would get after him if he found out he was lingering around when there was work to be done.

~

Basira was next coming in to invite Jon to go drinking with them, figuring with all the stress going around all of them could use a good stiff drink.

She knew he’d probably decline the offer, but she felt like she should ask anyway.

Walking Basira saw Jon hunched over, pressing a palm into his eye socket, his expression pinched.

Raising an eyebrow, she knocked on the door lightly. “Come in…” Jon called out weakly, not even bothering to lift his head when she walked in.

“M’not interrupting some weird psychic moment am?” Basira asked, a sliver of humor slipping into her voice.

Jon chuckled bitterly, “No, I just…” He winced, hissing rubbing his temples, “ have a headache.” He told her. “Not important right now,” He said, looking up at her, the pain still evident in his features, “You needed something?”

Basira rolled her eyes, “You’re ridiculous,” She said, digging through her bag, “and you should have said something.” She pulled out a little bottle of pills, shaking out a pair handing it to them over, “Take these.” Basira told him.

“What are they?” Jon croaked, glancing up, squinting up at her.

“Aspirin, take them,” Basira told them, slipping the pills into his hand, pressing a bottle of water into the other one.

Jon took them with a sip of water, “Uhm…thanks.” He said, pressing the cold water bottle to the back of his neck, in hopes of getting rid of the ache a little faster.

“No problem…Just say something next time, okay.” Basira told him.“You’re allowed to ask for help.” She said before leaving him alone once again with his thoughts.

~

Melanie wasn’t sure why she was even in here. Wrong place wrong time is what she could only guess. But now that Melanie was here, it was hard to ignore what she was seeing.

She’d heard someone in the bathroom, and had thought it had been Martin as he was the one with the allergies, and it had been sneezing that had caught her attention.

But she quickly realized that this sneezing was much louder and not quite as fittish as Martin’s usual fits. Melanie hesitated outside the door for a moment before pushing it open, coming face to face with Jon.

She didn’t know why it shocked her so much to see him, maybe it was just weird to see him doing something so human as blowing his nose.

Jon hadn’t seemed to notice her yet, so Melanie cleared her throat to get her attention, watching him practically leap out of her skin. The was his face flushed with shame, made a sharp pang of guilt pierced her chest.

Which was stupid; she didn’t feel bad for Jon. He was the reason they were in this stupid mess. Still, she found the words she didn’t mean leaving her mouth, “Are you alright?” She asked.

Jon blinked at her almost in a daze like he hadn’t quite heard her, “M’fine.” He mumbled, answering slowly like his thinking was slow and foggy. “Need to…need to get back to work.” He said, pushing past her.

Melanie stared after him shoving down the concern in her chest. If he wanted to be ridiculous, that was his problem, and if anyone asked about the box of tissues that mysteriously appeared on Jon’s desk later, well, she didn’t know how it got there.

~

When Tim walked into Jon’s office, he was caught off guard by the emptiness of it, the man rarely left the archives anymore.

He didn’t plan on lingering long enough for him to come back, not too thrilled about the idea of running into his boss. Though luck didn’t seem on his side today as the office wasn’t as empty as it had first appeared.

Jon was just out of sight leaning against one of the filing cabinets, so still that Tim would have almost believed he were dead, if not for the slow, even rise and fall of his chest.

“Sleeping on the job, boss?” Tim asked, in bitter amusement.

Jon groaned, cracking open an eye, “Don’t think I could if I tried.” He croaked, wincing as he swallowed. “Did you…”Jon hesitated before asking, thinking about his words carefully, not wanting to compel Tim in any way on accident, “need something?”

“Just dropping off some statements, don’t want you going through any weird withdrawals or something.” Tim said, haphazardly dropping the box on Jon’s desk, “I’ll be going now leave you to whatever is going on here.”

Tim turned to leave, pausing in the doorway, “You look like crap, by the way, maybe you should consider getting some actual sleep, not that I care.” He said, going before Jon could get a chance to respond.

~

Tim walked into the break room, almost turning around to leave when he saw the other archival assistants lounging about, but he really needed a cup of tea, so he pushed through the awkwardness.

He was looking for the kettle when Martin cleared his throat, “I already started a kettle. I can make you a cup if you’d like.”He mumbled.

Tim grunted in agreement, flopping down on the couch with Melanie, pulling out his phone in an attempt to avoid idle chatter.

The message wasn’t clear apparently, “Has anyone noticed anything…off about Jon?” Martin blurted out, failing to keep the concern out of his voice.

“What isn’t weird about Jon?” Tim chuckled bitterly, “ I just caught him sitting on the floor leaning against one of his filing cabinets just now, he’s losing it really.”

“Maybe he was trying to get some more sleep, I did find him asleep at his desk earlier,” Martin said, “can’t be comfortable, maybe he was looking for a better position?”

“He needs to cut the crap and just lie down in proper bed or take one the cots, or he’s gonna make himself sick.”Basira said, rolling her eyes, “Already gave himself a headache earlier.”

“I think it’s too late for that, I found him earlier in one of the bathrooms sneezing and blowing his nose.” Melanie told them, feigning disinterest in the conversation, “The man’s a disaster, it’s not like we don’t have tissues.”

They were all quiet for a minute, as the information they’d shared with each other sank in.

“Y-you don’t think Jon sick, right?” Martin finally spoke up, sounding a bit uncertain.

“No…no, of course not…Jon, he can’t get sick anymore…right?” Tim asked, sounding just as unsure, looking at Melanie and Basira.

“I don’t know I’m not an expert on all things, Jon,” Melanie answered, pointedly crossing her arms over her chest.

“We could ask him…”Basira suggested nonchalantly, all eyes on her now, “What it’s just a suggestion unless you guys have a better idea.”


	9. Is That A Thing Thing That Can Happen Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon getting some TLC, because I said so lol.

When Jon woke up he was vaguely aware of the deep ache that’s settled into his joints.

Shifting, he sat up in his cot, blinking blearily at his surroundings, bringing a loose fist up to rub at his eyes. It takes him a minute to recognize his surroundings, the fog in his brain, making thinking a slow process.

He’s in his office in the archives, he stayed late and hadn’t seen much point in going home. Something he’d been a lot lately…

Jon stretched wincing as he felt his shoulders pop with a weak, weak groan, muffled by his clogged ears. He was starting to wish he was a little less conscious as he was now fully awake and fully aware that he felt like crap.

He’d had felt this coming on all day, and had lost all hope of kicking it when he had to duck into the bathroom earlier today. It seemed like it had chosen now as the perfect time to hit him full force.

He was surprised the others hadn’t noticed, yet it wasn’t like Jon had been doing an excellent job of hiding his ailment. Or maybe it was simply because they didn’t care…good it was better to keep people at arm’s length anyway.

Jon didn’t like the idea of having his senses dulled, especially with everything that had been it happening lately. He couldn’t afford to be off his game now.

He could already feel the gnawing, anxiety poke at him, and the distinct feeling of being watched he’d grown so accustomed to. “Really, now?” Jon asked the question to the empty.

The old tape recorder turned on with an eager click. Jon sighed, getting up with a weak shiver, pulling the loos blanket a little tighter around his shoulders, “Alright, I’m up.” He said, going over to his desk, sifting through the clutter, looking for a suitable statement.

He found one that looked promising, clearing his throat wincing as it throbbed in response, praying that reading this wouldn’t completely wreck his voice, but he wasn’t hopeful.

~

The tape recorder clicked off, seemingly satisfied with Jon’s offering, as the archivist pressed his hot forehead to the cool wood of his desk.

He should have recorded from the cot because there was no way he’ll be able to get up and make it across the room now. Jon’s limbs felt like jello, and he was sure if he got up, he’d be shaking too much to stay standing.

Jon could hear someone open the door to his office, but the beholding wasn’t alerting him to who it was, and it was too much effort to lift his head to find out.

He just hoped whoever they were, they were here to put him out of his misery.

Instead of the feeling of cold steel to his neck, he felt a blessedly cool hand pressed to his forehead. He mustered the will to lift his head, finding Martins concerned brown eyes staring back at him.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone, Basira, Tim and Melanie on his heels. “Is this another intervention?” Jon croaked out weakly, half-jokingly and half-accusingly.

Martin chuckled, “It’s going to be if you don’t let your body rest.” He said, combing his fingers through Jon’s hair, “you should have told us you weren’t feeling well.”

“We have bigger things to worry about right now, then whether or not I’m a bit under the weather.” Jon snapped defensively.

“I think this is a little more than under the weather, boss.” Tim answered bitterly, concern softening his words.

“Yeah, I mean, you always look disheveled, but your starting to get into I’m dying territory.” Melanie teased a bit sarcastically.

“Look, the point is we can’t afford to have this getting any worst, so if you really want to help right now, you’ll rest and try to get better.” Basira told him, trying to appeal to Jon in a more logical sense.

Jon sighed, “I guess you’re not really giving me much of choice in this.” He said.

“Not unless you want to risk Melanie tying you down to the cot.” Tim said, a little too seriously for Jon’s liking. He let Martin help him up and over to the cot so he could lay back down.

He even let Martin fuss, pulling the blanket over his shivering frame, tucking it around him.

Jon cracked open an eye, “Please tell me you all aren’t going to sit there and watch me sleep?” He said.

“Right so we’ll be leaving, give you some privacy so you can get some rest,” Basira said, ushering the other out of the room. “Don’t get any funny ideas, though. We’ll be checking up on you to make sure your resting.” She called back before ducking out of the room.

Jon sighed, knowing he should be feeling irritated with them, he usually would be, but it was nice to see that he was still human enough that people cared. It comforted him as he slipped into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
